


Beka is Crazy

by djdaddybek (llyn)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, birthday kitty, fur coats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14277273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llyn/pseuds/djdaddybek
Summary: “Close your eyes, kitten.”





	Beka is Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> thank uuu to the reader who pointed out how i TOTALLY FORGOT to post this on ao3! this is my birthday ficlet for Yuri's big day <3

“Close your eyes, kitten.”

Yuri pinks up all the way to the tips of his ears. Kitten. Beka’s way of saying it, soft and low, makes him dizzy. But he won’t let him win that easy.

He stomps his foot. “No. I can’t believe you think you can order me around and steal me away from my own lame fucking party when you haven’t texted me back in two days,” he has to stop to breathe, or he would keep going forever. “You could’ve told me you were coming. I’m not even ready–like, I haven’t–”

He hadn’t got ready. Not for real ready, the way he would’ve if he knew Otabek would sweep in to his party an hour late with a big, shiny, black box under his arm. Yuri was so depressed from two days without hearing back from him he hadn’t even brushed his hair–it was tangly and there was icing in it from the binge he was having with the cake in the corner like a wild animal when Beka swept in.

Beka swept in, though. Nothing could stop him. Who would? He was wearing a fucking suit. The snow blew in with him. Everyone stopped talking. He grabbed Yuri by the wrist without a word to Lilia or Yakov and pulled him up from his cake to and up from the floor and up the stairs to his room, leaving the tea set and the paper plates with cat faces and the huddled and mostly hostile group of Lilia’s ballet students who Yuri suspected she had paid to come behind.

“Close your eyes,” Otabek says, again. “And your mouth.”

Yuri closes his eyes this time but his mouth stays open. “I’m not gonna forgive you for this.”

“Yes you will,” Otabek says. Then Yuri hears the lid slip off the big box and a moment later something soft and heavy drapes over his slim shoulders. His hands come up by themselves to touch: thick, lush fur.

“Fuck me,” he says in surprise, opening his eyes. Otabek snorts. “Beka, this is too much–”

“No, it’s not,” Otabek says, in that fierce way he has that means shut up.

Yuri shuts up, petting the fur. Big, luxurious, freezing from the outdoors, and white striped bold black just like a white tiger. He slips his arms through the sleeves and takes a shaky breath, turning to look at himself in the mirror. He looks like an heir to something very illegal. “I didn’t know you were rich.”

“I’m not,” Otabek says. He steps close to free Yuri’s hair from beneath the fur, turning Yuri from the mirror to face him. Yuri can only stare up at him, drowning in more than the plush fabric. The way Otabek fusses over him makes him feel like a prince–the crease between his brows deep as he arranges his icing-streaked hair just so over Yuri’s shoulder.

When he’s satisfied, he cups Yuri’s face in his hand and looks into his eyes, “I’m rich in one way, kitten.”

“You’re crazy,” Yuri’s heart pounds. “Lilia’s gonna freak when she sees how much you spent on me.”

“I think you like that.”

He does. He likes how Lilia fumes over Otabek’s influence. He likes how Otabek’s thumb sweeps over his bottom lip. It’s chapped. If only he’d known Beka was coming, he could’ve made himself perfect.

“You look like a little god.”

It’s Yuri’s turn to snort, disbelieving. “I look like shit. Don’t lie.”

“No, kitten. You look like an angel.”

“Stop,” Yuri shrugs his shoulder. Cold fur brushes his ear. Then he shivers, and Otabek laughs at him.

“There’s more. In the pocket.”

It must be something good, because Otabek steps back and bites his lip, waiting. Waiting–looking a little nervous, Yuri thinks–in his nice suit. Then Yuri thinks, oh, no.

No.

Could it be–

He reaches down inside his pocket and pulls out a strip of lace, unfolding it in his trembling hands–then the wild idea dies and he breathes out. It’s just little black panties, to match his new coat.

Beka hums, watching him finger the lace trim.

Yuri swallows. This is big, too, in its own way. “Thought you said we had to wait.”

“We do. I just want to see you dance around in them.”

It makes him smile. Beka always does. “You’re a liar.”

Otabek steps closer, slipping his hands under the coat, under Yuri’s shirt, to circle his waist, pulling their bodies flush. He leans down to whisper in Yuri’s ear, “If you dance for me, maybe I’ll bite them off of you.”

“Mm-maybe,” but it’s hard to play coy with those lips hot against his skin.

Otabek traps Yuri’s earlobe between his teeth, teasing and licking. He knows Yuri’s weakness. Yuri’s back arches in pleasure, and Otabek tightens his grip on his waist. But just as he grinds his hips forward with a groan, there’s the click of heels in the hall–a sound they both know means their fun is over, for now.

Otabek sighs, hands slipping out from under Yuri’s shirt to hug him close over his big coat instead. “Happy birthday, Yura. You like your presents?”

“Yes,” Yuri says.

“So you forgive me?”

He looks up at Beka and sticks out his tongue.

The door rattles. “Yuri Plisetsky, you have until the count of five to unlock this door. You know my rules. One!”

Yuri laughs and tucks his face against Otabek’s chest, fingering one of his shirt buttons.

“Two!”

“For a second I thought you were gonna give me a ring, Beka.”

“Three!” 

Otabek kisses the top of his head. “Silly kitten,” he says.

“Four!”

“Check the other pocket.”


End file.
